


inner demons

by aqonoluna



Series: PegoRyuGoro [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aftercare, Age Regression/De-Aging, Akechi Goro Lives, Akechi Goro Needs a Hug, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Sakamoto Ryuji, Budding Love, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Trauma, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub, Drinking to Cope, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, Excessive Drinking, Father/Son Incest, Flashbacks, Gang Rape, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mention of Shido Masayoshi, Multi, Mutual Pining, Parent/Child Incest, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slight Canon Divergence, Smut, Suicide Attempt, Top Persona 5 Protagonist, Trauma, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28982190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqonoluna/pseuds/aqonoluna
Summary: “As I was trying to say before: I’ve never told anyone about… this. No one knows at all. Not even my therapist. It’s… shameful… and gross… and… and I don’t even know why I’m even telling you all this shit,” he said. “You probably aren’t even interested in hearing my problems. You have more important things—”“You are important, Goro. Something is clearly bugging you and… You are so important to me,” Akira says. “I want to hear what you have to say — because you are important to me.”___Goro Akechi’s past haunts him.In the wee hours of the morning, drunker and closer to death than he’s ever been, Goro calls the only person he can think of to vent to.It turns into a heartbreaking heart-to-heart about the most violent, the most vile, parts of his past.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji, Akechi Goro/Shido Masayoshi, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Series: PegoRyuGoro [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136864
Comments: 18
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a story I was positing on my Twitter (@shuryuake) and it got ridiculously popular. A few people said they would read it if I posted it here, so I decided to throw it in a Google Doc, pretty it up, and post it here for all to read.
> 
> Enjoy!

_“Daddy!”_ Ryuji croaks, choking on his words as a result of the hand that’s pressing down on his windpipe. 

_“Daddy, please, I’m so close!”_

Akira smirks brightly.

To stabilize himself, Akira takes hold of the headboard with the hand that isn’t nearly suffocating his boyfriend. The new stability comes in handy as he picks up the pace, slamming into Ryuji so hard he would be screeching if Akira hadn’t completely closed his hand around his slender neck.

It doesn’t stop him from trying.

The screams are silent but Akira can see from the way Ryuji’s eyes are squeezed closed, fingers digging into the sheets, and his mouth makes a perfect O-shape that he’s trying; that he wants to. 

Hell, he can even tell from the way his whole person is violently vibrating that he wants to…

…or maybe he just can’t breathe.

“Mmm. You better cum soon, baby boy,” Akira purrs. “Daddy isn’t letting go of your neck until he comes in your pussy — but first, Daddy wants to see you cover yourself in your juices~”

Ryuji manages the quietest of screams.

It sounds more like a frog that’s dying from strangulation — and it’s music to Akira’s ears. He’s trying so hard to not fill Ryuji right here and now; to make him wait until he cums first.

_It’s so fucking hard._

Ryuji’s long, purple nails frantically dig into the sheets around. There would be a worry of him breaking one of them if, at this point, either of them had the ability to think of anything other than achieving orgasm.

Besides, he doesn’t dig at the sheets for long. His hands move to Akira’s forearm purely on a reflex, gripping it as he tries to yank his hand off his neck.

It doesn’t budge.

In fact, Akira tightens his hold — and it’s definitely going to leave some bruises they’ll have to explain later.

Akira _tsks_ to himself and shakes his head, sharply thrusting into Ryuji to the base, aiming directly into his prostate just to hear his strangled scream.

It’s _delightful._

“You know,” he purrs, doing the same action again, “I think I like having my hand around your throat. You look pretty with a little blue and you’re _quiet for once~”_ He leans in, speaking low and hot against Ryuji’s ear. “That’s the best part, baby boy.”

Ryuji inhales sharply through his nose, his full person going rigid; his hole tightening around Akira’s cock, practically engulfing it. His hands clutch around Akira’s arm and for a moment all he does is make gurgling sounds—

—and then he _screams._

“Daddy!”

Ryuji’s orgasm rips through him in a way he has never experienced before and would never be able to describe. He doesn’t have the vocabulary for whatever this is.

Akira cums in the same moment, the same heartbeat, with a violent scream of his own, slamming into Ryuji and filling him full.

_Fuck._

Ryuji swears he blacks out for a minute.

Or maybe five.

When he comes to, he’s breathing as if he just ran (and won) a full 100 kilometer ultra marathon.

_Fuck._

“Akira, I—”

Ryuji tries speaking, but his voice is hoarse. Too hoarse to talk. That’s not why he cuts off, though. He cuts off because Akira is suddenly crashing their lips together, sliding his arms under his shoulders to cradle him close as they make out.

“I love you so fucking much, Ryuji.”

Ryuji smiles softly against Akira’s lips, eyes falling closed as he relaxes into the mattress, happy to be kissed and loved on like this.

“I love you, too, Akira.”

**_Pi Pi Pi_ **

Although part of him (a distant part of him) hears it, Akira doesn’t _acknowledge_ that his phone is ringing in enough time to actually answer it before it goes to voicemail.

(How can he? Post sex haze is sometimes hard for him to work past, especially when things get as intense as they just did — and he isn’t even the one who was being choked.)

(Not to mention, making out with and holding Ryuji is intoxicating at the least. It’s easy to block out the world when his senses are being overrun by all things Ryuji Sakamoto.)

That doesn’t matter, though.

It doesn’t matter that Akira didn’t hear the phone ring. He’s given another chance to answer it, considering it starts ringing again not five seconds later.

He must be on someone’s speed dial or something, Akira muses.

_Does speed dial even still exist?_

A bit begrudgingly (with a not insignificant amount of groaning), Akira ends the make out session and rolls off his boyfriend, onto his side, with Ryuji in his arms, and reaches behind his back for his phone.

If nothing else, he’s at least interested in seeing who—

_04:33_

**_Caller ID  
_ ** _Akechi Goro_

_[accept] [decline]_

_[The picture Akira has for Goro’s ID photo is one where he’s looking directly at the camera, smiling with his head tilted to the side._

_He has eyes closed._

_In his left hand, he is holding a massive color-swirling lollipop. It’s almost as big as his face.]_

Akira frowns.

—and then knits his brows together tightly as if he is suddenly realizing something very important (as if he _wants_ to give himself wrinkles): 

If Goro is calling this late at night/this early in the morning, there has to be a very good reason for it, of that Akira is positive.

…and of course he has to find out why; has to make sure everything is alright, but also, well…

Goro is very much a _‘If it is past midnight, I do not and will not call you unless we are dating — and the same rules apply for everyone else’_ kind of person. 

There's absolutely nothing wrong with that, of course; it’s good that he sets boundaries for himself, but it means calling at this hour is out of the ordinary for him and _means_ something.

“I’m sorry… I should answer this.”

Ryuji nods as he gives a quiet purr, the sound a little bit hoarse. He doesn’t bother asking who it is, mostly because he’s too tired to actually care.

“Sure,” he hums, still very much hoarse, smiling warmly at Akira. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Sunshine. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Kiki.”

Akira kisses Ryuji’s forehead before rolling off him to sit on the edge of the bed, resting his feet on the floor firmly, absently bracing himself for whatever this call could be.

(If he’s overly prepared, he can't possibly end up being surprised or caught off guard by anything… right?)

He feels a shift in the mattress and hears a content chirp, indicating his boyfriend has rolled over to go to sleep; indicating he has wrapped himself in every blanket around him and is comfortable.

The mere notion makes him smile and is the last big of encouragement he needs to answer the phone.

“Hello?”

There is a long, drawn out pause after Akira answers the phone. He can hear heavy breathing, indicating _someone_ is there, but he still thinks he’s probably been mistakenly butt-dialed—

Goro suddenly speaks up, his words a little bit loud (as if he’s speaking _right_ into the phone; has the speaker pressed _directly_ to his face); his words very slurred.

“Who is this?”

_What?_

Akira frowns deeper, more than just a little bit confused. His brows completely furrow together. (He _really_ wants to give himself wrinkles, apparently.) His mouth opens and closes a couple times, looking for words.

_Any_ words.

Very much reeling right now, he moves his phone from his right ear to his left and back again — and then back again once more — using the fidgeting as a chance to think — and to listen to his boyfriend sleep.

Ryuji is softly snoring.

“I— Goro… _you_ called _me.”_

“Oh, shut up,” Goro hisses. _“_ I know what I— _Who_ _is this?!”_

Goro snaps at Akira with a thick, dripping venom. It’s one that he has definitely heard before, from many of the adults who have come in and out of his life, but never before from his friend; never before from someone he knows and trusts and cares for…

(…and loves).

He doesn’t like it.

The malice makes Akira’s skin crawl; makes him jump like something has startled him. It leaves him feeling like he could unzip himself from his own skin and _leave._

Akira startles so violently, in fact, he almost wakes up Ryuji, if the shifting around and quiet whimpering from his boyfriend means anything; if the fact he hears the bed creak means anything. 

He has to reach a hand over and stroke his hair to keep him asleep, but also touching his boyfriend’s hair does a lot to ground him; to make him feel… safe. 

To help him think a bit more logically.

It isn’t as though Goro can hurt him over the phone (nor would he at all, and it isn’t Goro that Akira is worried about, per se), but…

…Akira has _trauma._

“Answer my question before I—!”

It boils down to the fact Goro has never spoken to Akira (or anyone in their friend group, for that matter) with such a level of aggression; with such nastiness (and that’s including everything he said to them in the engine room of Shido’s palace).

It’s just… 

It’s all out of place and it startles Akira as a result. He prepared but he didn’t prepare to be spoken to in such a way; he prepared but didn’t prepare to protect the heart on his sleeve from unforeseen shots.

He does his best to brush it off so he can focus on the conversation at hand; does his best to build a haphazard wall around his heart to protect from further… incidents.

Hopefully.

“Goro, hey— A-Are you drunk?” 

Akira asks the question gently (because in the _shocking turn of events_ that Goro isn’t drunk, he doesn’t want to offend him, but he’s pretty sure he is), cutting off the threat before it turns into a tangent.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“That’s none of your business!” Goro fires back, just as much venom in his tone as before, near violently hiccuping.

At least the venom doesn’t poison Akira’s heart this time.

“You don’t get to ask me questions like that. Especially if I don’t even know who the fuck you are!”

“Goro,” Akira says, his tone still gentle (now because it isn’t going to resolve anything if he’s as excitable as his friend is). “It’s me. It’s Akira. Akira Kurusu? You’re the one who called me, Goro. What— What’s going on right now? Are you okay?”

“No! Of course I’m not okay!” Goro nearly screeches into the phone (and Akira digs his nails into the sheet), following up his words with the sound of breaking glass.

“How can I be okay with all of these... god damn _fucking! memories!_ in my head?!”

To further enhance his point (but most likely just to blow off more steam), Goro smashes two more glasses on the ground between _fucking_ and _memories._

Akira remains neutral and calm, wearing the mask of contented coolness he’s managed to form for himself.

He has to; he _needs a_ mask. For his own well-being, he needs it, and he doesn’t blame Goro, because he’s clearly hurting and not thinking clearly, but…

The breaking glass and yelling is a lot.

If for no other reason, he needs his mask so he doesn’t wake his boyfriend. If he didn’t have this mask, he’d be jumping physically every time a loud sound echoed through the phone.

“D-Do you need me to come over, Goro?” Akira offers when he sees an opening. “We can talk about it, whatever is going on. Just like your therapist suggests you do, isn’t it? Do you— Would you want to talk through these memories with me?”

Goro is Akira’s friend, after all, and he cares about him a whole lot (maybe even as much as he cares about Ryuji, but... he doesn’t think about that). If he’s struggling, no matter what time it is…

Akira is always going to be there.

He’d do the same for all his friends, of course. No matter what time it is or what he’s in the middle doing, he’d always drop everything to help out a friend — and the fact there’s something special to him about Goro in paircular—

Goro speaks up after a few beats (Akira could literally hear his own heartbeat for a moment) of silence following the offer.

“I’ve never told anyone before, Kurusu,” he says, voice barely even a whisper. “I— I’m not sure — _hic_ — how I can—? I’ve never told anyone what happened to— _hic_ — _hic_ — _hic_ — m-me— _hic_ — 

“Oh, _god fucking damn it!_ Fuck me, _hold_ _on.”_

The sound of the phone of Goro’s phone being slammed on a hard surface echoes in Akira’s ear (but at this point, his mask is protecting his heart from being startled again.) 

More distantly, he then hears the sound of crunching glass, solidifying that Goro had been smashing glass on the floor. 

Then he hears the even more distant sound of running water. It sounds like it’s being caught by something plasticy, so Akira deduces that Goro is getting himself a drink.

Before Akira knows it, Goro is back on the phone, breathing heavily into it, sounding as if he ran a full marathon — not ventured through his apartment to get water to stop his hiccups.

When Goro speaks again, he doesn’t seem to have the hiccups anymore (so apparently getting some water worked for him in that regard), though his speech isn’t less slurred — because of course it’s not.

(The only thing that can make a person less drunk is _time,_ after all.)

“Jesus fuck… Anyway,” Goro grumbles below his breath. “As I was trying to say before: I’ve never told anyone about… this. No one knows at all. Not even my therapist. It’s… shameful… and gross… and… and I don’t even know why I’m even telling you all this shit,” he said. “You probably aren’t even interested in hearing my problems. You have more important things—”

“You _are_ important, Goro. Something is clearly bugging you and… You are so important to me,” Akira says. “I want to hear what you have to say — because you are important to me.” 

He pauses briefly, thinking about what to say next — and how to say it. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s pushing or prying, but he’s worried. Goro doesn’t sound like he’s doing anything even resembling _okay,_ but he also doesn’t want to barge into his apartment uninvited.

Apparently he needs to be a vampire about this.

“I’ll ask again: Do you need me to come over? If so, I can be there in… maybe thirty minutes. Whatever you have on your mind, you can talk to me about it. You can always talk to me and know I won’t judge you. I would never do that and I hope… I hope that you know that.”

Goro is quiet for what feels like an eternity, but Akira figures he’s so quiet because he’s weighing the pros and cons of the offer, not because he fell asleep or is blowing off the question.

Goro has always been a very introspective person, after all. The notion almost makes Akira laugh in this case (and even though he doesn’t laugh vocally, the amusement he feels calms his heightened anxiety a little bit more). He can almost picture the messy pros and cons list he’s drunkenly trying to put together.

It does leave Akira curious about what his friend has to say, though. Especially around the five minute mark of total silence.

Goro is clearly extremely upset.

The fact he’s so drunk is more than enough proof of that, but there’s a dozen and a half other reasons he could cite to support that claim, too.

Goro said whatever it is that’s bothering him is something Akira has never been told about before… and judging by the way he’s carrying on and conducting himself, it’s… definitely something bad.

Very bad.

So bad, in fact, that they’re now going on seven minutes of silence while Goro debates the offer.

How big is this pros and cons list?

“Fine,” Goro eventually says. Akira lets go of a breath that he, as cliché as it sounds, didn’t know he had been holding. “If you’re going to insult, then you can come over, I guess. There’s a key—

“Um…

“S-Somewhere outside the door. In a plant or something. I don’t fucking remember. You’re a thief, aren’t you? Just pick the lock or something. I don’t care. I’m... _fuck,_ I am far too fucking drunk to get up and find the door — least of all for the likes of you,” he grumbles.

Akira ignores the obvious attempt at hurting his feelings, chalking it up to deflection or… whatever the psychological term is for what Goro just did.

Besides, Goro usually speaks to him like that (like he hates him when he definitely doesn’t and everyone knows it), even if he isn’t usually so… so rude; doesn’t ever try implying Akira is lesser than him.

Again, it’s probably because he’s drunk and hurting and needs a verbal punching bag of some kind; a verbal sparring partner, even though Akira is far too worried about Goro (and admittedly too tired post sex) to go back and forth like they usually do.

“Oh, and… Don’t knock, either. Bring me some painkillers. My head is starting to throb. I don’t exactly trust myself to—” 

Goro pauses for a moment, then says, on a completely different train of thought, “Oh… and hurry up, before I change my mind about this.”

With that, the line goes dead…

…but not before Akira hears a whispered _“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”_

Akira spends a few moments staring at his phone, blankly, as if he expects Goro to call back; as if he expects some kind of delayed explanation for the last line he heard.

That doesn’t happen.

Getting up, Akira quickly throws on a pair of jeans, an old tee-shirt from high school, and one of his hoodies that very distinctly smells like Ryuji, considering his boyfriend spends so much time wearing them.

After slipping into a pair of loafers gifted to him from Yusuke, he grabs a piece of paper and a pen, writing out a quick note for Ryuji that he leaves to his morning medicine for him to find.

_Ryuji,_

_I went to Goro's apartment._

_I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone or when I’ll be back but I promise I’ll call you when I have a chance._

_Everything is alright so please don’t worry._

_Goro just needed my help._

_I love you._

_Akira_

With that, Akira grabs his wallet and keys off a small heart-shaped dish on his dresser and heads out.


	2. Chapter 2

It doesn’t take Akira long to arrive in Kichijōji.

Once Akira steps off the train at the station, it takes him even less time to make it to Goro’s apartment, knowing where it is like the back of his hand by now. 

After all, he’s been to said apartment at least a dozen times since high school (and even a few times _in_ high school) so getting there is easy enough for him.

The surprising part is that he still lives in the same apartment complex, and _the same unit,_ after all these years.

Of course, it’s only surprising because there is a brief stint of time where he moved out shortly after the battle with Takuto Maruki. First he moved in with a man (who shall not be named) he met by happenstance — and then he moved into a rehabilitation center for almost a year.

Akira spends the walk to Goro’s apartment letting his mind wander, reflecting on the past like he’s sometimes prone to do.

The timeline between the battle with Takuto Maruki and current day is a confusing one, to say the least.

Especially for Goro Akechi.

From what Akira understands of what he’s been told, Goro has fuzzy memories of all events between _dying in Shido’s palace_ and _waking up somewhere_ not too long after the fight with Maruki.

It’s only after he ended up in a relationship with He Who Shall Not Be Named (because He is unimportant, insignificant, and was opportunistically abusive when Goro needed stability the most) that his ability to form long-term significantly improved.

(That isn’t to say Goro wouldn’t probably love to forget about his ex, if he could. Akira almost wishes he could but it’s that exact kind of lifestyle they fought tooth and nail against Maruki to avoid, so…)

Shortly after regaining his ability to make lasting memories, Goro decided everything was too much to handle and dialed the emergency line, threatening suicide, so They sent someone out and he was taken away.

That was shortly Akira moved back to Tokyo because Sojiro won custody of him in a battle against his parents who were verbally abusive and neglectful.

Shortly after the finalization of the adoption process, Akira began outpatient therapy sessions (because everything was too much and Akira broke down in a parking lot due to a car alarm — and then again due to a clicking pen) at the same facility Goro was checked into, thus their paths crossed yet again.

By that point, Akira was dating Ryuji and…

…and that is Goro’s (and a little of his own) life up-to-date, in a nutshell.

Including the stuff that happened prior to Maruki, Akira knows every aspect of Goro’s trauma and what he’s experienced and dealt with; what he’s faced and what he—

So what, then, if he knows all about all of Goro’s trauma (though a voice in the back of his head is telling him that isn’t true), could the current situation possibly be?

What memories could be so bad that they have Goro so absurdly drunk he doesn’t know who he’s calling? 

What memories could be so bad that Goro, assuming, is in his kitchen, smashing glass on the floor? 

What memories could be so bad that Goro has not only not shared them with him, but also has never told a therapist?

What memories—?

Akira sighs and snaps out of his thoughts when he processes that he’s finally standing outside Goro’s apartment door.

_**No. 5 10-103** _

Maybe Akira should stop _wondering_ what’s going on and just go in so he can find out from Goro what’s going on. 

It’s not as though trying to play Detective about this is helping him figure it out. If anything, it’s confusing him even more.

He isn’t Goro, after all.

He’s _not_ an ace Detective — nor is he a Detective at all. He has no skills for solving mysteries the same way Goro does, nor will he probably ever…

That said, Akira is good at puzzles (he has a naturally keen ability for them), and the puzzle presented before him is a good one. He needs to figure out how to get inside his friend’s apartment; needs to figure out where this supposed key to the apartment is.

_In a plant or something._

It takes only a few minutes, but Akira looks everywhere. He doesn’t just not find a key hidden anywhere, but there isn’t “a plant or something” outside Goro’s front door.

...and considering that this is an apartment complex, that makes sense. 

It would be asinine to put a key in a hallway like this (and a houseplant would be thrown away immediately). Someone as smart as Goro would never do something so stupid. Akira feels like an idiot for even entertaining such a notion, but he supposes even more ridiculous things have happened.

For a moment, Akira idly wonders if the “plant or something” Goro remembered was from his ex’s home and—

Well… It doesn’t actually matter.

Akira has a hairpin in his pocket (because he holds onto some in case his hair gets in the way, which happens sometimes) and that’s all he needs to pick this lock and get in.

After looking to his left, to his right, and then back to his left, Akira squats down in front of the door and quickly begins picking the lock, trying to get it done before anyone notices him.

(He’s spent enough time in legal trouble as it is and would prefer avoiding further time being locked up as much as possible.)

(Not to mention, it isn't very becoming of a government official to have charges for breaking and entering [or for any charges]. The fact he’s breaking and entering into the Detective Prince’s home, no less—)

(He’s already pushing it as it is with his expunged criminal record. He can kiss his career goodbye if he gets caught for this.)

Atheistically bless every single god and goddess, he quickly figures out the lock and the door opens with ease. 

Standing up straight and straightening out his shirt, Akira clears his throat and opens the door with the confidence of someone who is _supposed_ to be here.

The door opens inward (because of course it does), as if inviting him in; as if he has any right to be doing this; as if he has any right to be here at almost 5:30 in the morning — and he knows he does, but he also can’t shake the feeling that he’s intruding.

Sometimes, Akira _really fucking_ _hates_ living with anxiety.

(At least Goro didn’t latch the chain lock, too, meaning he doesn’t also have to finagle that. It does a lot to ease his feelings of anxiety. He _really_ would have struggled with feeling like an intruder in that case.)

“Goro?” Akira immediately calls out as he steps into the apartment, closing the door behind him. “Are— Are you here?”

Biting his bottom lip as he kicks out of his shoes and steps further into the apartment, Akira begins looking around.

He makes it to the living room before he makes a mental verdict that this apartment is, for lack of a better way of describing it, a total disaster.

_Absolutely trashed._

It looks like a tornado broke through here and left almost nothing destroyed.

There isn’t just a bunch of shattered glass in the kitchen (like Akira had thought there would be). 

Bookshelves are torn apart, picture frames have been ripped off the walls, there is a hole punched through the drywall, cabinets have ripped open with their contents thrown about… 

…and that’s just what Akira can see from the living room and kitchen.

Akira has a sneaking, gnawing, _aching—_

Well… 

Akira has a suspicion that the bathroom and bedroom are just as bad, if not maybe even worse, than the whirlwind disaster he sees right now.

Goro really is in a bad spot, much worse than he prepared himself for, and it sets off an alarm deep within Akira that has his heart racing and his long-forgotten third eye kicking it into third gear.

Akira has no idea where Goro is and that scares the hell out of him. This isn’t a big apartment, it shouldn’t be that hard to find his friend. 

Goro should be able to hear him.

Unless—

_Fuck!_

“Goro?” 

Akira calls for his friend a little louder, a significant amount of terror in his tone. His third eye hyper focuses on every sound in the apartment, mentally shuffling through them until he pinpoints one that—

“Where are you, Goro? Please come out. Please… I’m worried about—!”

“I’m right here. Stop the yelling.”

Akira whirls around on his toes, heart racing a kilometer a second. His eyes wide and wet as he suddenly comes face-to-face with Goro who, almost quite literally, came out of absolutely nowhere.

Somehow, Goro _looks worse than_ the state of the apartment. It’s somehow even worse to process than when he had no idea where his friend was.

Goro looks completely broken.

Defeated.

It looks like someone beat him down into a submissive state for some kind of sick and twisted pleasure; it looks like someone—

_Akira doesn’t know how to describe this._

_For someone who orates as a profession constantly, he doesn’t have the words to describe what he sees of his best friend’s current state._

He just wants to help.

Goro’s eyes have a crazy stare that Akira has never seen before. It’s like some cross between a 1000 Yard Stare (a phrase he heard once on an American television show that he feels works here) and one that’s burrowing into his very soul.

He’s completely naked except for a pair black boxer briefs, his staple black gloves, a single sock, and... lipstick? 

Not that lipstick is clothing, of course, but— 

It’s completely out of the ordinary for Goro to wear something like lipstick (as far as Akira knows, he supposes, because… well… he does seem to own it). It’s something he’s definitely never seen him do before.

What’s worse (and makes Akira’s stomach tie up in knots) is that it’s smeared across his tear-soaked face and cheeks — and the thing is, as much as Akira doesn’t know much of anything about makeup, he does know lipstick doesn’t usually smear because of tears…

The mouth isn’t close enough to the eyes…

…and speaking of Goro’s eyes…

There’s also a smear of, he’s just noticed, what appears to be black eyeliner — and while _that_ can smear because of tears, the fact it’s been smeared in combination with lipstick…?

Akira doesn’t know why, doesn’t know what it is, but something isn’t sitting right with him about this.

Beyond the makeup, Goro’s hair is matted down, he’s unsteady on his feet (which makes sense; he sounded drunker than a skunk on the phone), and he has a bottle of something expensive-looking in his hand.

Akira spends a moment thinking about if he can or should take the bottle of alcohol away from him. Would it cause a scene? Would Goro get mad at him for trying to take away his drink? 

The hold he has on the neck of the bottle is a near death-grip (which leaves him kind of surprised he hasn’t broken the glass and cut his hand), but… maybe he’ll get lucky and Goro will be—

Akira’s thoughts come to a screeching halt, paused, and then hyper focus immediately as soon as his attention travels down to right below Goro’s naval.

His stomach is bleeding.

Or... it _was_ bleeding.

The obviously self-inflicted wound appears to be clotted now, but there’s still a large horizontal gash there, right above his—

(He admittedly has to force himself from looking at the happy trail for too long. He knows he shouldn’t; knows this isn’t a problem he should even be having, nor is it the appropriate time for this, but… Akira is hyper sexual at the best of times. He can’t help it.)

The grim, disgusting thought of _What was Goro trying to do?_ crosses Akira’s mind, but he forces the thought out. The _how_ and _why_ is far less important than doing something about it — and besides, he can’t let let himself think about Goro trying to—

Akira is right by Goro’s side in less than a second, taking the nearly empty bottle of booze and putting it on the coffee table (Goro is _damn lucky_ he didn’t bleed out, cutting himself after drinking so much) and then takes ahold of both of his hands, so he had something to hold onto.

The wound appears to be jagged, Akira dicerns, now that he has a better look at it. so he can only assume that Goro had used one of the broken pieces of glass to… (he almost hates to give the idea a voice, but—) …cut himself.

If his heart was racing out of his chest before, then… 

_What is this?_

Boy, _oh, boy_ the fear he felt before finding Goro is _nothing_ compared to how he feels right now. 

Petrified, mortified, terrified, scared… 

None of it even begins to come close to describing the _adrenaline_ running through his veins. He had never even felt this level of adrenaline while in the metaverse, killing shadows…

…and _THAT_ made him a sadistic adrenaline junkie.

The only rush of adrenaline that compares to how he feels right now is when they had thought Ryuji died after Shido’s palace went down in flames. There are a few differences between then and now but they’re minute and not at all worth picking apart.

“Goro, I… Wha-What happened? Why are you bleeding?” Akira asks calmly, steering him to the bathroom, murmuring that he intended to help him clean up.

(He knows damn well what happened. He can see it with his own two eyes; he can feel it in his gut…)

(…but part of him needs to hear it from Goro; needs to know in his own words what happened and what he had been trying to do here…)

Much to Akira’s surprise, Goro doesn’t fight with him about going to the bathroom. He just _lets_ Akira do what he has to do to take care of him…

…and Akira doesn’t know if he’s relieved or even more worried that his longtime rival is not, well… 

_Rivaling him._

(Maybe it’s a bit of both.)

“I cut myself,” Goro says simple, as if the answer were just so simple and Akira was the for even asking.

He probably is.

“I… I cut myself with a piece of the broken glass,” he says, vaguely gesturing his arm toward the kitchen. 

Akira knew all too well there was broken glass in there, but he hadn’t seen any bloodied pieces. It made him wonder what Goro had done with the piece he used to harm himself; where he had it hiding.

“I wanted— I had— I…” Goro pauses and swallows a lump in his throat. Akira can see tears frowning. “I _needed_ to feel something, Kurusu. I needed to feel something other than grief… and anger.”

Goro’s voice is empty.

Save for the shakiness in his voice the tears are causing, that is.

Akira lets out a slow and steady breath and gently squeezes Goro’s shoulder in some attempt to brace himself; to bring back the mask he’d created earlier. There’s no way he is getting through this evening without it.

He doesn’t even know what’s going on yet, and he _knows that._

“It’s alright,” Akira assures Goro quietly, getting him to the bathroom (which is just as destroyed as the rest of the apartment, like he had suspected). “Everything will be just fine. I… I promise.”

Either Goro doesn’t hear him and isn’t listening or he doesn’t care at all about what Akira is saying.

Either way, he doesn’t respond.

That’s alright.

Once in the bathroom, Akira steers Goro to sit on the closed toilet seat. 

He then momentarily turns away from him, turning to the medicine cabinet to rummage through it, hoping to find anything he can use to bandage up Goro’s stomach.

Goro drops his face in his hands, which is an action Akira sees from the corner of his eye (because he has one eye on him).

One of the softest mewls escapes him. It’s such a heart-wrenching, gut-turning sound that Akira almost puts a stop to his search for bandages to hug Goro instead.

“U-Under the sink,” Goro half chokes out, sniffling. “Sumire put a bunch of stuff under there the last time she came over to visit me…”

In what looks to be some attempt to stop another round of tears, Goro begins rubbing his eyes with the sides of his thumbs…

…but instead of preventing more tears from falling, all he does is smear the eyeliner even more.

Then when the fresh round of tears he couldn’t stop ends up silently falling, anyway, it winds up making the smearing even worse. It even causes dark circles around his eyes.

Now isn’t the time for jokes, and Akira knows that, but Goro rubbing his face the way he is unfortunately ends up making him look like a tanuki — and it definitely is not funny…

…but at least it’s an observation that keeps the heart on Akira’s sleeve from breaking in two, resulting in his own tears.

Akira’s supposed to be the one here for Goro, after all. He can’t cry. He has to be the strong one; has to be the shoulder to cry on.

Goro would do the same for him.

_Probably._

“Oh. Okay,” Akira murmurs, giving a nod as he crouches in front of the sink, opening the cabinet door to find everything he needs. 

“Thank you.”

Goro sighs, putting his face in his hands right after he closes his eyes. Akira sees the action from the corner of his eye yet again, having one eye on him like a hawk.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust him. 

It’s just that…

 _He’s scared…_ and he’s trying to not be; trying to be the one who’s _brave_ here, but he’s not the picture of heroism that everyone thinks he is and—

It looks like Goro is supporting the full weight of his head in his hands, judging by the way his elbows are digging into his knees. Hell, it looks like he’s putting _more_ pressure than necessary on his knees; looks like he’s digging his face into into his hands and—

“Goro,” Akira says gently but firm, biting his bottom lip when he gets his attention. 

His eyes look so lifeless, so dead, and it makes Akira’s heart skip a beat. He hadn’t been expecting to see that and it was a lot to process.

Goro looks so tired.

“Don’t do that, please.”

Goro sighs softly and instead doubles over on himself, folding his arms over his knees and resting his forehead on his forearms. He’s quiet, but eventually mumbles some kind of response.

“Sure.”

Akira sighs his relief and turns back to the cabinet; to the task at hand of finding his hat he needs to bandage up Goro.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

It doesn’t take Akira very long to find what he needs. In a matter of a minute, he has found a gauze bandage wrap, antibiotic ointment, a pair of medical-grade scissors, hydrogen peroxide, and medical tape. 

He turns Goro and closes the distances between them, kneeling in front of him with all of the items he had collected. 

Biting his top lip, he quietly watches him for a few moments, grateful that he’s doubled over and can’t see him staring. The last thing he wants is for Goro to go on another tangent or something.

“Sit back for me.”

It doesn’t happen instantaneously, but Goro does comply. He does unfold himself and lean back against the toilet seat, presenting his wounded stomach to Akira.

The wound is still no longer bleeding. 

That’s good.

If it had been able to clot, that means they don’t have to call an ambulance and rush Goro to the emergency room to deal with this. It’s something Akira can deal with on his own, with the first aid knowledge he gained during his time as the leader of the Phantom Thieves.

The cut could’ve been so, so much worse, though, Akira realizes idly, and then if Goro had been dead when Akira arrived—

_No._

He can’t be thinking like that.

Goro is alive.

_Alive._

For literally the _third time_ in the few years he has known this man, Akira has to remind himself that Goro isn’t dead. He didn’t die in Shido’s palace; he didn’t die after the battle with Maruki; and he didn’t die now…

…and as long as he’s alive, they can tackle this, whatever it is. No matter what’s going on, no matter what it is Goro has to say to Akira, they can handle it.

_Together._

“You didn’t have to come here,” Goro says, his head lolled back against the wall behind the toilet. He’s absently staring up at the ceiling. “You didn’t have to—”

“Yes I did.”

Akira pauses as he cuts off less than half a meter of gauze and folds it over on itself so he can hold it under the wound. 

When he has it exactly where he wants it, he asks Goro to hold it in place for him, which he does without question.

Thanking him on a mutter, he then steadily pours the hydrogen peroxide over the wound liberally, warning Goro that it may sting as a courtesy.

Goro doesn’t react.

Keeping one eye on the wound, watching as the hydrogen peroxide bubbles to indicate the wound is being cleaned, Akira continues his thought.

“I did have to come here. I did because you’re my best friend and I love you, Goro. I couldn’t just leave you to… suffer all by yourself. I didn’t in high school, and I’m not going to start now.”

The comment is met with a nasally scoff.

“You could have,” he says. “You could have but you have some Save Everyone complex and for some reason, even after everything I’ve put you through… You still think I’m worth the energy to save.”

Akira frowns deeply.

“What happened between us back then is in the past, Goro,” he replies. “I don’t hate you and I don’t blame you for what happened. Any of it. It wasn’t even— None of it was even your fault. Shido—”

“Don’t fucking talking about him!” he hisses at Akira. “I don’t want to hear that man’s fucking name in my apartment! He doesn’t fucking belong here!”

Akira frowns deeply in confusion. 

Don’t talk about him? 

Why? 

The two of them have talked about Shido openly plenty of times in the past (including having conversations about him, post his conviction, while _in Goro’s apartment)_ and he has neve reacted like this before.

What gives?

“Goro, I… What’s wrong? What do you mean don’t talk about him? You and I have talked about—”

_“Shut up, Kurusu!”_

Goro chokes out a sob and pushes Akira away from him, watching as he falls to his ass. He thinks he sees some kind of pain in his eyes when he hits the floor, but he doesn’t pay attention long enough after Akira falls to really figure it out.

Shakily, he pulls his legs to his chest, holds his arms around his calves as he digs his heels into the toilet seat. He buries his face between his knees, letting himself cry.

It’s very sudden…

Akira has never seen Goro have such a visceral reaction to the mere mention of his father’s name.

It terrifies and confuses Akira.

_What’s going on?_

…

In truth, though, when he thinks about it, Akira is far less surprised by this outburst than he probably should be; then he probably has any _right_ to be.

After all, it’s really not that shocking Goro’s current mental (and physical, considering the self-inflicted wound on his stomach; the one that he’s most definitely ripped open) state is the result of memories pertaining to his father. 

That piece of shit has been a thorn in Goro’s side for so many years — and he doesn’t even _serve him_ anymore; and Shido has been in jail for years, and will be for many more years to come.

“I said, _don’t_ fucking talk about him!” Goro screeches, making Akira wince. “I don’t want to hear that man’s name in my home! He fucking ruined my goddamn life. I— _fuck—”_ he hissed. “I just wish he were fucking dead! Why the fuck didn’t you fucking _kill him?!_ I wanted him _dead,_ you selfish bastard!”

Getting off his ass as quickly as he can, Akira moves back over to Goro’s side, (stupidly) putting his hands on his friend’s shoulders, forcing him to look straight at him.

(He’s so lucky Goro doesn’t decide to deck him for touching him while he’s in the middle of a breakdown like this. He knows better, but he’s desperate; he has no idea what’s going on and he just wants to help.)

“Hey!” he says gently, but firm. “Goro, _hey,_ look at me. It’s okay. It’s _okay._ He’s in prison and he’ll rot there for the rest of—”

“He deserves to _rot in hell_ for what he did to me!” Goro fires back, his words and breathing shaking almost as violently as his body suddenly is.

“He fucking hurt me, Akira. For so many fucking years! I was— _I was a child—_ and then I _wasn’t a child,_ and he was still fucking hurting me! I was—”

Goro cuts off, digging his nails into his bare legs, choking on his words for a moment until he comes up with the words for what he wants to say. His sharp nails digging into his legs causes them to start bleeding, but he doesn’t notice it — and Akira doesn’t say anything (for now) because he doesn’t want to cut him off.

“—his peon! I was his peon! His perfect little assassin! His… I was— I was his _fucking play thing!!”_

Every part of Akira’s person comes to a screeching halt as soon as Goro says he was Shido’s “plaything,” his brain very desperately trying to understand what that means.

 _Plaything?_

Akira knows that a “plaything” is another word for “toy,” of course, but people don’t a usually use that kind of language about one another unless—

... 

Akira’s blood runs cold and thick and his brain fizzles as if it’s begun flashing an error code somewhere.

He barely hears the rest of what Goro has said…

“...bastard fucking used me, so if you ever say his name around me again, I—!”

…so he really hopes that what he says next is a follow up question and not him asking a question about something Goro has just said that he didn’t catch…

“Goro, I, uh…”

Akira’s voice sounds so disembodied to him, somehow. He only knows it’s him that spoke because he recognizes the sound of his own voice. 

Otherwise, everything feels separate from him; feels… strange. His brain’s a weird kind of solid mush.

He feels like he’s on autopilot…

…and he’s definitely not processing any of this new information.

“Goro, did— Did your father—?”

It’s Akira’s turn to dig his nails, but does so in Goro’s shoulders. 

He says nothing.

Likewise, he chokes on his own words until he finds the one that needs to be said; the one that describes the thought he needs to give voice.

“Goro, I… Did… Did Shido rape you?”


End file.
